


The Arm in the Suitcase

by 18lzytwner



Series: Bones - Second Series [3]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-10
Updated: 2009-06-10
Packaged: 2019-06-13 07:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15359166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/18lzytwner/pseuds/18lzytwner
Summary: Booth and Bones are called to the airport after bloody suitcases and a severed arm is found. The rest of the body is discovered in a unconventional place. 3rd in new series. Partial CSI:Miami Xover.





	1. Chapter 1

**Washington Dulles International Airport, Tuesday at 6:30 am**

          “Remind me why we had to get up so early?”  Booth rubbed his eyes again for about the tenth time.

          “Because a bloody suitcase was found to hold a severed arm,” Brennan sighed.  His complaining was starting to get to her.

          “So it couldn’t wait until at least sun up?”  Cam wasn’t in a good mood either.

          “Not when it was leaking bodily fluid all over the other luggage,” the forensic anthropologist said flatly.

          “We’re going to have to confiscate all the luggage that has any fluids on it.  There could be other limbs somewhere.  Plus we’ll need the plane,” Cam told them.

          “Oh I bet the FAA is going to love that,” Booth couldn’t believe it as he watched the ex-police coroner kneel down at the bag in question.  The crime scene tape flapped lightly in the early morning breeze and Cam shook her head as she looked at the right arm.  The sever wasn’t clean and it would be up to the lab’s equipment to narrow the type of weapon. 

          “I’ve had the plane pulled off the runway and away from the terminal.  I also pulled the manifest so we can track down any of the passengers criminal records.  It wasn’t a very full flight being the red eye and all but almost everyone was still waiting for their luggage,” D.C. Police Detective Chris Pawlicki joined the group.

          “Thanks.  Go tell them that we’ll be talking to them soon.  In the meantime, all this needs to go back to the Jeffersonian.  Bones, Cam, why don’t you look at the plane?  Unless you’d like to take that back to the Lab too,” Booth chuckled slightly.

          “No, here is good,” Cam shook her head and walked over to the plane to have a look.  She scanned the cargo hold with her flashlight.  Fresh blood stains were pooled on the bottom of the hold and it was quite obvious that whoever was murdered bled all over down there.  The only problem was the fact that the rest of the body was missing.  Blood everywhere and the rest of the body was missing.

          “Something is seriously wrong here,” she shook her head again.

          “What did you find?”  Brennan asked.

          “It’s what we didn’t find.  No more body parts.  All this blood and no body parts,” Cam said.

          “So the victim was murdered in the belly of the plane and then what?” Booth wondered.  Cam just shrugged.

          “I have no idea.”

          “Well Bones, why don’t you and I go talk to the passengers and see who is missing from the plane,” her partner gave one of his classic smiles.  Brennan pulled her latex gloves off and followed him leaving Cam to ensure all the evidence was hauled to the Jeffersonian.

          Booth and Brennan walked into the terminal and were shown to where the D.C. police was holding the passengers from the morning flight.  Most of them appeared to be very cranky upon returning from Florida.  Quite a few complained that they wanted to go home however Booth informed them that no one would be going home just yet.

          “When I call your name please move to the front of the room,” the FBI agent instructed.  After calling six names, he waited until all six moved.  Then utilizing the help of the D.C. police, all six were asked some routine questions.  After not finding any reason for keeping them anymore, they were released.

          “What about my suitcase?”  Christine Relia asked.

          “Unfortunately your luggage can not be returned to you until the investigation is complete,” Booth said.

          “But my medication is in my suitcase,” she told him.

          “Then tell the officer at the door.  He’ll write down your contact info and we’ll work something out,” Booth smiled at her.  Christine didn’t seem very happy but she nodded and headed out.  The next six were called and questioned.  This went on for about another hour before only four names remained.  It was at this point that Booth noted there were only three people in the room.  They were asked questions and then released.

          “Well we might have a name for our victim, Ryan Schamberger.  He’s the only one unaccounted for,” Booth told his partner.

          “Did he work for the airline?”  Brennan wondered.

          “No.  According to the manifest he was in seat seven-b,” he said.

          “Let’s get out to the plane and take a look,” the forensic anthropologist replied and the two quickly headed back out to the plane.

          “It looks like Cam removed everything except the plane itself,” Booth commented as they entered the aerial vehicle.

          “I wish we could get the plane back to the Lab but that simply can not happen,” Brennan sighed. 

          “Well Cam took pictures and under my orders the plane isn’t to move unless I say so,” he reassured her.  Brennan nodded as they found Mr. Schamberger’s seat.  It was empty as they expected, as was the overhead compartment. 

          “His luggage must be with the rest that Cam collected,” the forensic anthropologist commented. 

          “Yeah I guess so,” Booth nodded.  His phone rang and he picked it up.  Brennan lost focus on his conversation and moved about the plane’s cabin.  There were plenty of places to stash a body and the pieces had to be here somewhere.  First, she checked the obvious places in the plane’s galley.  When nothing turned up, she moved to the front lavatories.  Both were empty and slightly smelly.  Not entirely unusual considering the small compartment and what people did in it.  Then she moved to the back of the plane to check those restrooms.

          “Booth!”  She shouted.  He moved toward her and hung up his phone. 

          “What is it Bones?”  He asked as he came to her right shoulder.  Upon getting close enough to her, he was almost knocked over from the smell.

          “It’s coming from the toilet.  We need to empty the tank and get the contents back to the Jeffersonian,” the forensic anthropologist told him.

          “What for?  It smells like someone was really sick,” Booth gagged as he clamped his index finger and thumb over his nose a little tighter.

          “That’s the chemicals in the tank reacting with our corpse.  Destroying the evidence,” Brennan said.  The two backed away from the atrocious smell and closed the door.  Booth picked up his phone again and called Cam.

          “We need a team out here to drain the toilet tank in the plane.  Bones thinks our victim is down there,” he said.  Brennan imagined what the ex-police coroner was saying to her partner and when he got off the phone she smirked.

          “What?”  Booth asked.

          “Hodgins is going to have a field day with that stuff,” she said.  This made Booth chuckle as they exited the plane.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Tuesday at 10:30 am**

          “What is that smell?”  Angela almost gagged as she approached the platform and Hodgins.  The entomologist was wearing a gas mask and nodded to her to put one on that sat on the nearby table.  She did so and was glad she could breathe fresh air again.

          “Back to my question or do I not want to know?”  She asked.

          “Our victim was put into the plane’s chemical toilet system.  I have to sort through this to see if there is any important evidence,” he replied.

          “Why isn’t Simon helping you?  That seems like something an intern would do,” Angela didn’t even want to think about what lay inside the smelly blue goo.

          “He is but we just found what we thought was another part of the body and he went to deliver it to Cam,” Hodgins explained.

          “Ah, she’s in autopsy right?”  The forensic artist wondered.

          “Yep.  While you’re over there would you send Simon back out?  I need his help with this,” the entomologist gave a slight smile.

          “You got it handsome,” with that she left the platform and walked over to autopsy.  Angela figured it smelled just as bad in there as it did out on the platform as Cam was also wearing a gas mask.

          “Hey Simon, Hodgins is looking for you,” she told the intern.

          “Oh geez, I got caught up in the autopsy and forgot about him,” Simon smacked his masked forehead with his latex glove hand and left the ladies to examine the body.

          “Sometimes, I wonder about him,” Angela said to Cam.

          “As do I,” the ex-police coroner nodded without looking up from her work as she tried to lay the pieces of the dead man in the order they belonged.

          “So I’m guessing you don’t need me to do a sketch right?  I mean for being dumped in a chemical toilet, his face seems to be in good shape,” the forensic artist hoped that she wouldn’t have to deal with the head.  It was still covered in goo and God knows what else.

          “I took some dental X-rays, I’d like you to verify but other than that, no I don’t think you need to reconstruct the face.  Unless of course the X-rays don’t match the ID from the plane seating charts,” Cam looked up from the corpse and gave a slight smile.

          “Ok great.  I’ll go run those,” Angela scooped up the folder on the autopsy desk nearby and scooted to her office where she could remove the gas mask.

          Over in Brennan’s office, Booth sat on the forensic anthropologists couch talking on the phone with Charlie.  Despite being upgraded to the rank of field agent, Charlie still wasn’t cleared for active duty other than to sit at his desk.

          “Thanks Charlie.  Tell Steve he owes you one,” Booth smiled as he hung up his cell phone.  The young agent would be a great field agent and he looked forward to the two of them sharing drinks like he had with his mentor.

          “Anything good from Charlie?”  Brennan asked.

          “Yeah, Ryan Schamberger was coming back from a business trip to Miami when he ended up in the toilet.  His boss confirms it was to seal a deal with a smaller company.  It seems there was a merger looming and the smaller company wasn’t so thrilled about it,” Booth explained.

          “Who did Schamberger work for?”  His partner inquired.

          “Pets ‘R’ Us.  The smaller company is Friends of Pets.  Anyway Charlie managed to get the flight crew hauled into headquarters and Sweets is going to meet us in my office.  I guess Charlie is having the interrogation rooms set up.  You game for interviewing some flight attendants?”  He asked.

          “Seeing as Cam isn’t done with her autopsy, yes, I’m game.  Simon and Hodgins are digging through the sludge from the toilet system and they promised to let me know if anything develops,” Brennan nodded.  Booth nodded and stood up from his seat.  She grabbed her coat and he walked with her out of the office.  They both held their noses as they passed the platform and exited the Lab.

**The Hoover Building, Interrogation Room 1, Tuesday at 12:00 pm**  

          “Captain Jonathan Pevi, it says here in your service record that you used to fly in the Air Force,” Booth gave the pilot a smile.

          “Yes, I served my country.  So what?”  Pevi gave him a look.

          “Well I figured since you served and you know your responsibility to report anything that goes awry during the flight to the flight control tower or your superior, you would have mentioned something about the toilet system being full when D.C. police questioned you earlier today,” the FBI agent laid out the problem for the pilot.

          “Hardly ever do we say anything about the toilet system unless we’re in for a long flight.  The signal for a full tank came on about ten minutes before I began procedures for landing.  Once I had begun our descent, all passengers and crew were to be strapped into their seats not the toilet,” Pevi said.

          “So once on the ground, you would tell the airport, it needed to be emptied?”  Booth wondered.

          “Standard procedure dictates I do which I did before heading to the lounge.  I was supposed to be flying the nine-thirty flight to Baton Rouge, as was the rest of the crew.  From there we were supposed to leave tomorrow back to Miami,” the pilot explained.

          “The flight attendants didn’t bring to your attention that a passenger seemed to be missing?”  Booth wanted to know.

          “No.  I wasn’t made aware of the situation until I was pulled from the lounge by D.C. police,” Pevi answered.

          “Did you leave the cockpit at any time during the flight?”  The barrage of questions continued.

          “No, the flight was only an hour and fifteen minutes.  If the flight was longer then yes I would have been able to use the restroom, stretch, or eat something.  I had a very capable copilot, Mr. William Woodside, and autopilot.  Of course if it were an emergency, then I could leave my seat,” Pevi replied.

          “What kind of emergency would allow you to leave your seat?”  Booth raised an eyebrow.

          “Besides bathroom emergencies, if anyone on the flight needed medical attention.  I am trained in CPR and Mr. Woodside and the top flight attendant, Miss Shelby Zang, could handle the plane,” the pilot seemed confident enough that Booth wondered if, other than having an ego, he had any connection to the case.

          “Did Mr. Woodside ever leave his seat?”  The G-man asked one more question.

          “No, he was at my side the entire time,” Pevi told him.  Booth nodded and thanked the pilot for coming.  Up next was Mr. William Woodside and he only hoped Brennan was having more luck with the flight attendants.

          As it turns out, she wasn’t.  So far the list of questions Booth had given her to ask the flight attendants had led nowhere.  No one seemed to remember Ryan Schamberger, never mind seeing anyone kill him.  There had only been three attendants on the flight because of the lack of passengers and the first two hadn’t been paying attention to the passengers, as there had been a fussy baby up toward the front of the plane.  Since Ryan’s body had been discovered in the back, the crew hadn’t been much help.  Still it amazed the forensic anthropologist how the body had ended up in the toilet in the first place.  It was obvious from the blood in the hold that the victim had been chopped up down there but how did the pieces get from down there to the toilet storage tank?

          “Miss Shelby Zang for you Dr. Brennan,” Charlie smiled and let the head flight attendant in.

          “Thanks Charlie,” she smiled back and offered the seat across from her to Miss Zang.  Hopefully she would have some answers.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Hoover Building, Interrogation Room 2, Tuesday at 2:00 pm**

          “Miss Zang, you’re the senior flight attendant, did you anything out of the ordinary during the flight?”  Brennan asked.

          “No.  There wasn’t much turbulence and most of the passengers were trying to sleep.  Although the baby up front didn’t help matters,” Shelby replied.

          “Did anyone complain about the baby?”  The forensic anthropologist wondered.

          “We had a few but that isn’t unusual.  I’m just glad the plane didn’t have more passengers.  Then we probably would have had quite a few more,” the flight attendant smiled.

          “How about Ryan Schamberger?  Did you see him?”  Brennan wanted to know.

          “What seat did he sit in?”  Zang inquired.

          “Seven-b,” the world-renowned author said.  Shelby thought about it for a few minutes. 

“I remember him getting up during the flight and heading toward the back of the plane.  I assumed he was using the restroom back there so as not to get in the way of the drink cart, I was pushing down the aisle,” she explained.

“Did you see him after that?”  Brennan asked.  Again the woman paused before answering,

“Now that you mention it, no, I didn’t,”

“About what time was that?”  The forensic anthropologist prodded.

“Mid-flight, we were over South Carolina I believe,” Shelby had this look on her face that Brennan couldn’t quite place.  At this point, she wondered what Booth would do and that’s when Sweets talked into her ear from the other side of the glass.

“Ask her what she’s thinking about.  Anything else that caught her eye might help the case,” he said.

          “What are you not telling me?”  Brennan raised an eyebrow trying to get the flight attendant to answer her.

          “Well when I made my second pass with the drink cart on the other side of the plane, I noticed that seat ten-a was empty.  The man who sat there returned to his seat about five minutes before the Captain ordered everyone to buckle up.  I thought it was strange that he’d have been in the bathroom that long or walking around the cabin because that would have been almost thirty-five minutes out of his seat,” Shelby confided. 

          “What was the man wearing?”  The forensic anthropologist asked.

          “Khaki shorts and a cranberry colored polo shirt that had Hawaiian flowers on it,” she answered.  Brennan tried to remember back when they were interviewing the passengers before releasing them.  Try as she might, she couldn’t recall seeing anyone dressed like that.

          “Although I think he changed his clothes because when he exited the plane, he was wearing jeans and a blue and white checkered pattern button down,” Zang added more details and Brennan remembered a man wearing the same clothing.

          “How does she remember that?”  Sweets asked in her ear and she repeated the question to her witness.

          “Well I commented on how I liked the cranberry shirt when I saw him enter the plane.  He smiled and said, ‘This old thing?’.  The strange thing was it seemed like an almost new shirt,” Shelby told her.

          “Thank you for your time Miss Zang.  If you could wait here for a moment, I’ll see about getting your release setup,” Brennan stood and exited the interrogation room.  Sweets gave her a look when she closed the door behind her.

          “You think she’s telling the truth?”  He wondered.

          “Her story does seem oddly specific as if the man in ten-a tried to make sure he was noticed.  The crazy shirt would have made him stand out.  Perhaps I’d better talk to Booth,” she said.

          “Sounds like a good idea.  He’s finishing up with the copilot.  It’s unlikely that he’s involved,” the psychiatrist explained.  Brennan nodded and she grabbed her cell phone from her coat pocket.  No messages from the Jeffersonian.  She wondered what was going on that they didn’t have anything of interest yet.  Sighing, she watched Booth exit Interrogation Room One and enter the room where they stood.

          “Anything good Bones?”  He wondered.

          “It seems as though Miss Zang has some good information,” his partner explained what had transpired.

          “She’s probably not involved but I’ll send a tail on her for the rest of the day.  If she’s working with someone, she’ll probably lead us right to him.  As for this passenger, let’s have Charlie run a background check,” Booth nodded.

          “Back to the Lab then?”  Brennan wondered, anxious to know what the team was up to.

          “Yup.  Back to the Lab,” her partner gave a half smile.  Sweets promised he’d send over his official evaluations by four o’clock and the partners were on their way.

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Tuesday at 3:15 pm**

          “So what have we got?”  Booth asked as the partners entered the autopsy room wearing their protective gas masks.  Cam looked up from the mess she was examining and shook her head.

          “I haven’t figured out what the cause of death was.  The body was mangled and cut in a few places that would have made it easier to stash some place but how it got into the toilet tank is a mystery.”

          “So you couldn’t have flushed the pieces?”  Brennan wondered.

          “I’m having Angela get the schematics of the airplane toilet system.  Once she gets them up on the Angelator, we might have a better idea,” Cam explained.

          “Is it just me or would anyone who did this need a shower?”  Booth wondered.

          “That’s the other problem.  No way whoever killed our victim was able to escape without having blood all over them,” the ex-police coroner said.

          “They could if they ditched their clothes,” Hodgins told them upon entering autopsy with Simon right behind him.

          “What did you find?”  Brennan asked.

          “A shirt and shorts or what’s left of them.  Unfortunately the chemicals will have destroyed any viable DNA but if we can prove these clothes belong to someone other than our victim, we’d be in business,” the entomologist told them.

          “Can you tell what color the clothes would have been before being covered in chemicals?”  The forensic anthropologist wanted to know.

          “Maybe but I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Hodgins shook his head.

          “Are you done with the flesh yet Dr. Saroyan?”  Simon wondered, effectively changing the subject.

          “Not yet, I have some tests to run and an examination left to finish but you could take some X-rays, if you’re done helping Jack,” Cam said.

          “There is some more to strain through but I think I can handle it while the tests are running on the clothes,” the entomologist told them.

          “And while they’re doing that, lets go over Sweets’ reports,” Booth said as he steered his partner toward her office and fresh air.


	4. Chapter 4

**Brennan’s Office, Tuesday at 4:30 pm**  

          “Well Sweets’ reports aren’t exactly telling.  I mean I could tell the pilot has ego issues,” Booth sighed.

          “Yes, well someone on the crew had to be a part of it because how else would the victim end up in the main centralized waste tank?”  Brennan gave him a look.

          “According to the copilot, they empty it on the ground with hoses.  There is a hatch on top of the tank though that can be used should the main pipes become clogged,” he explained.

          “Makes sense.  Our killer didn’t have to flush our victim, just gain access to the hatch to dump the body parts in,” she told him.

          “And since we know the victim was killed in the luggage holding area, it wouldn’t be too difficult to move the parts to the main toilet tank,” Booth nodded, his mind constructing theories.

          “When Angela has the schematic up on the Angelator, we’ll test that theory.  In the meantime, a suspect would be nice,” the forensic anthropologist said.

          “I agree.  Out of the crew, everyone seems to have a solid alibi.  Is it possible that the passenger in ten-a knew about the inside of the plane?  I mean what if this guy knows his way around a seven-forty-seven?”  The G-man wondered.

          “Its possible.  Then the crew would not need to be involved just distracted.  Is it too convenient to have a crying baby in the front of the plane?  I mean a small number of passengers would have allowed two of the flight attendants to help quiet the infant,” Brennan wanted to know.

          “Maybe.  Since we know the victim was killed in the hold, he could have made a lot of noise but down there the sound of the engines would have drowned him out.  I’ll have Charlie look up the name of the passenger with the baby while he’s checking into ten-a,” Booth pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the number.

          “Hey Charlie, I need you to…” the agent trailed off and Brennan assumed Charlie must have interrupted him.  The forensic anthropologist sat on her sofa awaiting the news her partner had when Angela walked into the office.

          “I’m done with the Angelator, you have to see this,” she said.

          “As soon as Booth is done talking to Charlie we’ll be there,” Brennan promised.

          “So has tall, dark, and handsome asked you to move in together yet?”  The artist asked.

          “No, why?”  Brennan gave her a look.

          “Because you’ve been sweating up the sheets for almost a year,” Angela replied.  She made a valid point but her friend shook her head.

          “I’m sure the FBI would not look kindly to us not only revealing our relationship but suddenly moving in together.  The longer we keep it a secret the longer we work together,” the world-renowned author said.  Angela nodded as she saw her friend’s point.

          “Ok, I’ll let it slide for now.  I’ll see you in my office,” with that Angela left but not before giving Booth a wink.  He turned to Brennan and gave her a questioning look.  She waved her hand as if to say ‘We’ll talk later’.

          “As you can see here is the schematic of the toilet system,” Angela pointed out on the Angelator some twenty minutes later.

          “Anyway to flush body parts?”  Cam asked.  Her mind looked at the pipes and thought that they were awfully small.

            “Since the toilet system in airplanes is what they call a ‘vacuum system’, the pipes would not have been large enough to carry body parts to the tank, no matter how strong the vacuum pump was.  However as Booth pointed out there is a hatch in the top of the main tank where body parts could be thrown,” Angela made a face.  Toilets were always a nasty thought but the technology behind it all was quite amazing.

          “Can the hatch be accessed through the luggage compartment?”  Hodgins wondered.

          “Yes, there is another hatch that leads to the main underbelly of the plane.  However there is a problem,” Angela pointed out.

          “What problem?”  Simon raised an eyebrow.

          “Well we don’t have a blood trail,” the forensic artist said simply.

          “That’s because we weren’t looking for one.  We had the airport empty the tank from the bottom, which is by using a hose attached to the plane, or by opening the hatch doors.  No one climbed on top of the tank so I sent an FBI forensics team back out to the plane to check for blood.  But we do have a problem.  The passenger in ten-a used a fake name and address.  When Charlie checked into it, it turns out the guy sitting in ten-a was eighty-six years old and living in a nursing home,” Booth shook his head.

          “So we have a suspect but no way to track him down.  Any luck with the clothes Hodgins?”  Cam wondered.

          “I was able to clean the chemical off of them but the blue liquid contains sanitizing ingredients.  The color of the clothes has been chemically altered,” the entomologist said.

          “Ok that isn’t good but I’ll have Charlie go over the security tapes from the Miami Airport.  I’ll also have the forensics team swab the seat he sat in.  Maybe we’ll get lucky,” Booth quickly made a phone call to the team.

          “Have you discovered cause of death or what kind of weapon was used?”  Brennan looked to Cam.

          “Well cause of death was a broken neck.  It looks as though our killer passenger fought with our victim and in the course of the fight Ryan’s neck was snapped.  The nose was broken and there was some damage to the left cheek.  As for the weapon, I’m still working on it,” the ex-police coroner told them.

          “Simon, have the X-rays been of any use?”  The forensic anthropologist asked.

          “They confirm what Dr. Saroyan found but I’m still looking,” the intern replied.  Brennan nodded.

          “All right everybody, back to work,” Cam ordered and the group dispersed.  Hopefully the FBI forensics unit would turn up some useable evidence.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Wednesday at 10:00 am**

          “Bones!”  Booth called to his partner as he entered the lab and swiped himself onto the platform where she was standing.

          “Yes?”  She looked up from the newly cleaned skeleton and came face to face with the FBI agent.

          “We have a face to go with those clothes Hodgins found in the tank.  Charlie is running facial recognition now.  I’m going to talk to Shelby Zang to see if she recognizes him as the man we’re looking for,” he explained.

          “Ok.  Cam has confirmed that someone breaking his neck in fact killed Ryan Schamberger,” Brennan told him.

          “So that means he wasn’t killed in the cargo hold?”  Booth raised an eyebrow expecting more from his partner.

          “The pattern of the breakage for the nose and the left cheekbone indicate he was struck at a slight angle with a long horizontal object.  Now with all the regulations for entering a plane there is no way our killer snuck a bat, a metal pipe, or a two by four onto the flight.  I’m having Angela run a simulation but I’m confident that the left side of Ryan Schamberger’s face was pushed into the overhead compartment multiple times.  The force of a series of impacts along with the fact that it was at a slight angle would have broken his nose, cheek, and eventually his neck.  Our killer has a large amount of upper body strength,” she nodded.

          “Ah ha.  Well the FBI lab techs are analyzing the blood trail they found in the plane’s belly.  Any luck with what our mysterious passenger in ten-a used to chop Ryan up?”  He wondered.

          “The cuts to the skin were very jagged and the bones were broken.  Simon is running through the possibilities of what was used on both.  Again we are limited in our scope because of airline regulations but that doesn’t seem to be helping very much,” the forensic anthropologist concluded.  Booth just nodded, his mind was beginning to process what she had said.

          “That still doesn’t explain how our killer managed to have no one notice him running around naked and covered in blood,” the G-man was confused. 

          “Shelby Zang said that she couldn’t account for ten-a’s whereabouts for thirty-five minutes.  That would certainly be enough time to kill, dismember, and throw out the pieces of the body.  Perhaps he borrowed clothes from his own suitcase when he was down in the belly of the plane,” Brennan said.

          “Look what I found!”  Hodgins shouted from his position below the platform near his workstation.

          “What is it?”  Booth asked as he tried to identify the object the entomologist held.  Hodgins put it in a plastic tray and headed for the platform.

          “Only the best piece of evidence ever.  A blood soaked blanket and one of the knives from the galley,” the entomologist was all excited until Brennan burst his bubble.

          “But they soaked in that sanitizing fluid.  There won’t be any useable DNA on them,” she said.

          “That may be true but this has to point to one of the crew as being a suspect.  There was no meal served on the flight from Miami to D.C.  So how did our killer get a hold of a steak knife?”  Hodgins wondered.

          “I’ll get Charlie on looking for where the plane was headed next.  Meantime, get whatever you can off those things.  I’m beginning to wonder what was going on in that plane.  Bones I think we need to talk to Miss Zang now,” Booth said.  Brennan nodded and quickly pulled off her latex gloves.  Then they headed to her office to grab her coat.

**Shelby Zang’s Apartment, Wednesday at 12:00 pm**

          “Miss Zang we have some more questions,” Booth talked through the door.  The flight attendant had not answered his first knock and then the announcement of who they were.

          “Something is off.  Stand back Bones,” the G-man said.  She gave him a look but did as he told her.  Booth withdrew his weapon and then used his right leg to powerfully kick the door.  It didn’t budge. 

          “I hope they don’t send me back to therapy for this,” he muttered as he discharged his standard issue Glock twenty-two into the deadbolt.  The door swung open as he pushed it with the tip of his gun.  Slowly the partners entered the apartment.  Booth noted that Brennan had pulled her own weapon out of her purse.  He tried not to roll his eyes.  That stupid gun looked bigger every time she pulled it out.  Sweeping the small apartment, they found signs of a struggle.  The only room left to check was the room at the end of the hall.  Booth stepped in front of the forensic anthropologist and walked in ahead of her.

          “Son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath.  The body of Miss Shelby Zang lay on her bed.  Blood covered the sheets and the wall.  He holstered his weapon and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

          “Charlie, I need a forensic team to Shelby Zang’s apartment.  I’ll call Cam,” was all he said before hanging up.  Brennan pulled a pair of latex gloves from her purse and got closer to the body.

          “Possible stab wounds to the abdomen.  I count at least ten of them,” she said.

          “So someone wanted to send a message or had a lot of rage,” Booth shook his head.

          “She hasn’t been dead long.  Maybe since early this morning but I won’t speculate until Cam takes a look,” his partner backed away from the body and removed her gloves.  Booth put his cell phone back up to his ear. 

          A short time later, Cam confirmed what Brennan had discovered.  Shelby Zang had been stabbed to death and had died around nine am.

          “Until I do a full autopsy I won’t be able to give you an accurate stab wound count,” the ex-police coroner said.

          “What do you mean?”  Brennan looked at her confused.

          “The killer appears to have struck in the same spot multiple times.  Otherwise I’d have to say they used two different weapons.  Some of the stab wounds are larger than the other ones,” Dr. Saroyan explained.

          “That sounds wonderful,” Booth’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on either woman in the room.

          “So are you comfortable saying that both Ryan Schamberger and Shelby Zang were killed by the same person?”  He said after a few minutes of silence.

          “The amount of force used, I’d say so but don’t quote me.  This could be a horrible coincidence,” Cam told them.  She then had the body loaded up onto a gurney and wheeled out to the Jeffersonian’s van.  Booth and Brennan headed back to the SUV.  With their only witness dead and most of the evidence sanitized, the case seemed to be stuck. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Wednesday at 2:50 pm**

          “What’s up Cam?”  Booth asked as she had called him into autopsy.  Brennan was already there with Simon.

          “I’m afraid things have gone bad to worse,” Dr. Saroyan shook her head.

          “How much worse could it get?”  The FBI agent wanted to know.

          “Shelby Zang was eight weeks pregnant,” Cam said.

          “So that explains the extra stab wounds.  Our killer knew she was pregnant and didn’t want the baby,” Booth theorized.

          “It’s possible; in total I was able to confirm nineteen stab wounds.  The good news is it appears they all came from the knife recovered at the scene,” the ex-police coroner explained.

          “Where was the knife found?”  Brennan asked.

          “In the kitchen.  Whoever killed her used one of her own knives from the set on the counter.  The killer wiped the knife clean and stuck it back into the holder,” Cam told them.

          “What made you look in the kitchen?”  Booth wondered.  The apartment had been a mess from the struggle.

          “At first I just wanted to rule out any knives in the apartment but it seems we got lucky.  As far as DNA goes, I’m having Hodgins take the knife apart to see if we can get any viable samples from our killer.  I’m running the baby’s DNA through the system as well,” she explained.  Booth nodded.

          “Charlie is still running facial recognition but the lab techs found some skin cells on the plane seat.  They’re bringing the samples over.  Also Charlie found out that the plane was to depart from D.C. and land at the Dallas Fort Worth International Airport.  The flight isn’t long enough for a meal but he was informed by the airline that the knife could have only been brought on the plane by the flight attendants as they would be the only people with access to them,” the G-man said.

          “So are you thinking Miss Zang was involved somehow?”  Simon wondered.

          “Somehow I don’t think so.  She was in charge of all the remaining passengers while the other two flight attendants were dealing with the cranky baby.  She would have been too busy to retrieve the knife and help cover up a murder.  Perhaps she was just an innocent bystander,” Booth puzzled over the clues for a few moments.

          “How do you figure?”  Simon raised an eyebrow.

          “Well she’s the only one who could ID the passenger in ten-a.  Now she’s dead.  Our killer must have access to airline records in order to get her address.  Also that could mean he’d have access to the knives and could have brought one on board,” Booth pointed out.

          “Could be but then if he’s a flight attendant, he could have jumped on the next plane out of here,” Cam said.  The FBI agent nodded before picking up his phone and dialing Charlie. 

          “I need you to run the face against flight attendant IDs from the airline, see if you get lucky,”

          “No problem but don’t you think that the other flight attendants would have recognized him?”  Charlie wondered.

          “I’m sure that they don’t know each other.  Besides we’re running out of ideas,” Booth said before hanging up. 

          “Ok, something has been bothering me about this case,” Simon spoke up.

          “What is it?”  Brennan asked.

          “Well the victim’s arm was found in a suitcase, indicating that our killer wasn’t able to throw the arm into the toilet storage tank before he needed to return to his seat.  But yet he was able to remove his clothes, clean himself up, and dispose of the evidence?”  The intern wondered.

          “My guess is after he chopped up Ryan Schamberger, he threw his clothes and the other evidence into the tank.  He wouldn’t have needed the knife, his clothes, or the blanket if he were done with his dirty work.  Realizing however he didn’t have enough time to get rid of the arm, he stashed it into the suitcase he’d emptied.  That unmarked suitcase had nothing of use on it.  No DNA, no identification, just a tag stating it had been checked at the counter.  Then once he was clean, he went back up into the plane’s seating area and put on his seat belt.  Only Shelby Zang noticed his disappearance and he must have known it,” Booth said.

          “So he finds her and kills her?  She wouldn’t have let him into her apartment especially since the door was locked when you got there,” Cam pointed out.

          “Then our killer from the plane didn’t kill Shelby.  Someone else did?”  Brennan wondered.

          “Something very hinky is going on.  What if one of the other flight attendants is in on this?  We thought we ruled them out but what if we missed something?”  Booth wondered.  
          “Hopefully the DNA will help clear this up.  In the meantime, Simon you can clean the bones if you wish,” Cam steered the group back to Shelby Zang’s body.

          “Yes, Dr. Saroyan,” the intern quickly wheeled the gurney down to the bone cleaning area.  Booth and Brennan headed back to her office to try to sort the mess out.

**Charlie’s Desk, Wednesday at 8:30 pm**  

          Charlie rubbed his eyes.  He’d be waiting for the face recognition software to work and so far he’d struck out.  The FBI, CIA, NCIS, and local the local police departments had nothing on this guy.  Currently he was searching through Miami-Dade Police’s database.  Maybe he’d get lucky.

          He was also running the DNA the lab techs had found on the plane.  It was just too bad that he’d been striking out there too.  It was getting frustrating and he was glad that as soon as he was off medical leave/desk duty, he’d be a fully-fledged field agent like Booth.

          The senior field agent had left the office about three hours ago saying he needed to get some food and some sleep.  He’d made him promise to let the software run all night and to go home when he wanted.  Well he’d sort of listened although he probably could have gone home shortly after Booth.

          Yawning, Charlie slammed the remaining portion of his twelve-ounce can of Pepsi © and stood up with the help of his cane.  He hobbled to the men’s room and then promised himself he’d go home.  He couldn’t drive yet but hailing a cab or hopping onto the bus wasn’t such a bad thing anyway.  

          After a few minutes, he exited the bathroom and went back to his desk.  The computer still hadn’t found anything and he shook his head.  Their suspect was a freaking ghost.  Sighing, he picked up his coat and began the hobble toward the elevator.  He was about halfway there when he heard a beeping noise.  Rolling his eyes, he knew it was his computer.

          “Of course you stinking son of a…” he muttered to himself before hobbling back to his desk.  A picture had popped up and identified their suspect.

          “Well well we can’t hide forever.  Let’s see what Booth has to say about this,” Charlie flipped open his cell phone and dialed Booth’s phone.  It rang and rang and was about to go to voicemail when an out of breath man answered it.

          “Booth,”

          “Hey I have a name on our suspect from Miami-Dade,” Charlie smirked.

          “Excellent.  Send the info to my laptop and I’ll take a look at it.  In the meantime, contact Miami and see if they can help us out,” Booth replied.

          “You got it,” the younger agent answered.

          “Good job Charlie.  I’ll see you in the morning,” Booth said before hanging up.

          “Did you really have to answer that?”  Brennan asked him, raising an eyebrow.  The sheets on his bed covered up her naked body.

          “We have a lead on the case,” he gave her look.

          “Which is why you left your phone in the living room so we could have some private time,” she reminded him.

          “Well we hadn’t exactly started did we?”  He waggled his eyebrows before shucking the remainder of his clothes and climbing into bed with her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Booth’s Office, Thursday at 9:00 am**  

          “So the name of our suspect is Jonathan Kawlicki.  He was picked up on a DWI a few months back.  And you’ll never guess who he works for,” Booth said to Brennan as she pulled sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

          “Who does he work for?”  She asked playing along with is game.

          “Friends of Pets.  In fact, he’s the Head of Operations out of their corporate office in Miami,” he told her.

          “So killing the guy who is organizing the merger would help his cause how?”  Brennan wondered.

          “Seems that once the merger was complete, Kawlicki would lose his job and be demoted to Regional Head of Operations.  Pets ‘R’ Us has stores around the world and Ryan Schamberger was to fill the US’s Head of Operations,” her partner explained.

          “A cut in pay and benefits would certainly be motive,” Charlie interrupted as he entered Booth’s office.

          “More news from Miami?”  The senior agent asked.

          “I spoke to a Lieutenant Caine.  They searched his residence, his boat, and the office.  According to his secretary, no one expected to see him until Monday.  Apparently Kawlicki was off for a few days,” Charlie told them.

          “So he probably didn’t go home then.  He could still be here in D.C.,” Brennan said.

          “It’s quite possible although there were no signs of packed suitcases or empty closets so I’m guessing that our suspect had figured he’d return home.  That being said, Lieutenant Caine promised to have the house watched in case Kawlicki returned,” the younger agent explained.

          “Good.  Did you notify our field office down there?”  Booth wondered.

          “Yes, they are working alongside Miami-Dade in the stakeout efforts.  Also I’ve sent his picture to every local police department in the D.C. area.  Steve is working on his financial records to see if we can get lucky with credit card use,” Charlie informed the partners.  Brennan’s phone rang and she quickly answered it.  Both agents waited until she was off the phone before speaking again. 

          “It turns out that the DNA from Shelby Zang’s baby and the knife used to kill her doesn’t match the DNA recovered from the plane seat.  It matches an Omar Lake,” the forensic anthropologist said.

          “Well then I guess we’d better pay Mr. Lake a visit,” Booth smirked.

**Omar Lake’s apartment, Thursday at 11:00 am**

          “Omar Lake?  FBI!”  Booth shouted as he knocked the door back into the apartment with a swift kick from his leg.  Lake was sitting on the couch and he bolted toward the back room.

          “Freeze!”  Booth ordered as he charged after him.  Brennan wasn’t far behind.  Omar headed for the fire escape when Booth fired a shot into the wall next to him.

          “The next one goes into your head!”  The FBI agent yelled.  Omar froze.

          “Back away from the window and put your hands on your head,” Lake did as he was told until Booth came forward and cuffed him.

          “You’re under arrest for the murder of Shelby Zang,” the G-man told him before continuing to read him the rest of his rights.

          “I didn’t kill her I swear,” Lake told them.

          “That’s not what the DNA says.  Nice cut you’ve got there on your right hand,” Booth pointed out.  After that Lake remained silent until they reached Interrogation Room One at the Hoover Building.

          “So why’d you do it?”  Booth asked as he showed Omar pictures of Shelby’s body.

          “I want a lawyer,” Omar said.  The FBI agent nodded.

          “You’re going to need a good one,” he headed back into the monitoring room and Brennan turned to him.

          “Is there anyway Lake could be connected to Jonathan Kawlicki?” 

          “I doubt it.  They ran in completely different circles.  Omar has been picked up for assault and possession of illegal drugs.  Plus how would Kawlicki know that Omar was Shelby’s girlfriend?”  Booth wondered.

          “The same way he knew someone who worked on the plane to get him the equipment he needed,” Brennan surmised.

          “I’m going to have Charlie look into the two other flight attendants.  One of them must be our accomplice,” her partner said before they headed back to his office.


	8. Chapter 8

**Interrogation Room One, Thursday at 2:00 pm**

          “You’ve kept my client in here for almost three hours,” Lake’s lawyer, David Rimple, complained.

          “He was booked on murder charges.  Not exactly someone I want wandering around D.C.  Besides we were hoping that he’d make things easier on himself and come clean.  We have DNA evidence tying him to the murder of Shelby Zang and her unborn child,” Booth said as he sat down next to Brennan.

          “What is there to come clean about if you have him pegged already?”  The attorney wanted to know.

          “A flight attendant by the name of Nancy Crane.  Turns out she’s the niece of a suspect in another murder case and we think Shelby’s death is tied to it.  Now what do you know about her?”  The G-man asked.  At this point Omar leaned over and whispered something to Rimple and the lawyer nodded.

          “He’ll tell you what you want to know if there is something in it for him,” David replied.

          “Something for him?  He killed his girlfriend and his baby…” Booth cut off Brennan,

          “What does he want a ticker tape parade?  He’s going away for a very long time and there isn’t much I can do for him.  He’s on his third strike,”

          “Then you won’t get anything about Nancy Crane until we get a deal,” that wasn’t the answer either partner was hoping for.

          “I’ll make a call to the Federal Prosecutor and we’ll see what we can get.  Meantime you two stay here,” Booth stood up and Brennan followed him out into the hallway.  Quickly the agent made a call to Caroline.  Sweets exited the monitoring room and met them.

          “So what are you going to do?”  He asked.

          “Whatever Caroline can dream up.  Without Omar we have no way to link the killings together.  Booth thinks it’s too big of a coincidence that Miss Zang would get killed shortly after our first victim,” the forensic anthropologist told him.

          “He’s probably right but you have no evidence to suggest the crimes are related.  I thought you’d follow the facts before making a leap like this,” Sweets made a valid point.  This was ‘jumping the gun’ as Cam had said once before.  The only thing that connected Shelby Zang to Ryan Schamberger was the fact that the two were on the same flight.  She had witnessed not the murder but the disappearance of Jonathan Kawlicki during the flight and perhaps there was more information that Shelby had had but not revealed.  She was unable to give the psychologist an answer and that bothered her.  The truth and the evidence were everything.

          “Come on Bones, Caroline has a deal to offer,” Booth interrupted her thoughts and she returned with him to the interrogation room.

          “Ok the Federal Prosecutor is willing to make a deal that involves parole, sound good?”  The FBI agent wondered.

          “How many years will I have to do?”  Omar wanted to know.

          “At least twenty-five and not a single second less,” Booth gave him a look.

          “Deal,” the man nodded. 

          “Then tell us what we want to know,” the G-man ordered.

          “Shelby had me come over Wednesday morning and we got into a fight.  Said she knew about Nancy and me and couldn’t believe I cheated on her after all she’d stuck by me.  Then she tells me she’s going to the police.  Make sure I go to prison for the rest of my life.  She grabbed the knife out of the knife block and came at me calling me all sorts of names.  She got my hand before I was able to get it away from her.  Then she took off toward the bedroom and I followed.  Shelby hit me in the head with one of books and I stabbed at her.  She fell backward and I just kept stabbing her,” Lake explained.

          “You were cheating on Shelby with Nancy?”  Booth asked.

          “Yeah for a couple of weeks.  Nancy promised we could get away from D.C. together after I told her what happened.  She said she’d get a hold of her uncle who was visiting D.C. and that he’d give us plane tickets to wherever we wanted to go,” the murderer said.

          “Did she say why her uncle was in town?”  The FBI agent wondered.

          “No, just that he had business to attend to,” Lake shrugged.

          “Did she know how Shelby knew about the two of you?”  Booth inquired.

          “She didn’t say anything but she didn’t seem all that upset that Shelby was dead either,” Omar told them.  _Probably because that’s exactly what she wanted_ , Booth thought to himself.

          “All right.  Do you know where she is?”  Brennan took her partner’s silence as her opportunity to talk.

          “No.  Probably at her apartment,” Lake said.  Booth shook his head and stood up.  Brennan stood as well and the partners left the interrogation room.  The two headed back down the hall, passing the team that would take Omar Lake into custody.

          “Charlie we need a team out to Nancy Crane’s apartment,” Booth said.

          “You got it,” the younger agent nodded.

          “Any word from Florida?”  Booth wondered before the partners headed into his office.

          “Not yet,” Charlie replied before he needed to speak to the person on the other end of the line.  Booth plopped himself into his chair and Brennan sat across from him.

          “I follow the facts before making leaps like these,” she said to him.  He gave her a confused look and said,

          “What?”

          “Sweets he pointed out that I’m allowing myself to make these leaps without the evidence to back them up,” Brennan clarified.

          “No you’re not.  I made the leap; you tagged along for the interrogation.  Its true we have no evidence to tie the two murders together but that might come when we talk to Nancy Crane.  You second guessing yourself Bones?”  Booth wondered.

          “No, of course not.  I’m letting Sweets psychobabble get to me.  I think I need more sleep,” she said.

          “I can help you with that,” he smirked.

          “Oh like you did last night?”  She teased.

          “I’m sure I could think of something,” he chuckled.


	9. Chapter 9

**Booth’s Office, Thursday at 4:00 pm**

          Charlie hobbled as fast as he could after getting off the phone.  He knew Booth would want to hear the good news.

          “The team we sent out to Nancy Crane’s apartment picked her up.  They’re searching the place right now and bringing her in,” he smiled.

          “Excellent.  Set it up in Interview One,” Booth smiled back and turned to Brennan. 

          “Time to get one more step closer to the truth.  Shall we?”  The smirk on his face was undeniable.

          “Yes that sounds good,” she smiled back at him and the two headed for Sweets’ office to see if he was available.

          The three of them were walking toward interrogation when Brennan’s phone rang.  She quickly picked it up and said,

          “Brennan,”

          “Hi Sweetie, it’s me,” Angela’s recognizable voice came over the line.

          “Hi, what have you found?”  The forensic anthropologist wanted to know.

          “The simulation is finished and it confirms your theory.  The left side of Ryan Schamberger’s face was in fact pushed into the overhead compartment multiple times,” her friend told her.

          “What did the force calculation give you?”  Brennan asked.

          “Using Ryan’s weight of roughly seventy-five kilograms (one hundred and sixty-five pounds) and normal acceleration of nine point eight meters per second, I got seven hundred and thirty-five Newtons.  Taking into consideration the angle at which Ryan hit the overhead compartment, the weight of the attacker is approximately one hundred kilograms (two hundred and twenty pounds),” Angela explained.

          “Thanks,” with that Brennan hung up and turned to Booth.

          “How heavy would you say Jonathan Kawlicki weighs?”  He stopped and looked at her.

          “I’d say about two hundred pounds, most of it muscle.  The guy must workout a lot,” he said.

          “Angela confirmed my suspicions.  Kawlicki is strong enough to have used the overhead compartment as his weapon,” she told them. 

          “All right well lets see if his niece is forthcoming with his current location,” Booth winked at Brennan and they continued into the interview room and Sweets went into the monitoring room.

          “Why am I here?”  Nancy Crane asked.  Her slight five foot six frame sat bolt upright in her chair.

          “Three reasons.  First, we need to know why you had Omar kill Shelby, second, the location of your uncle, Jonathan Kawlicki, and finally why you helped him kill Ryan Schamberger,” Booth laid it all out for her as the partners sat down across from her.

          “First off, I didn’t have Omar kill Shelby.  He did that on his own.  When he told me what he had done, I told him to turn himself in.  I wanted to get away from D.C. with him not have him do something like that,” Nancy said.

          “Then how did Shelby find out about the two of you?”  Brennan asked.

          “She found our text messages when I let her borrow my phone at one of the airport lounges,” the flight attendant sighed. 

          “It seems he sent me one as she was trying to dial his cell phone number,” she continued.

          “So it’s just a coincidence that she is the only witness to what your uncle did and now she’s conveniently out of the way?”  Booth wondered.

          “It seems this is the part where I need an attorney,” Nancy told them.  Her tone had changed completely.

          “We’ll get back to you,” he said and both partners stood up and exited the room.  They then entered the room where Sweets was standing.

          “So?”  Booth asked.

          “Well Omar was right.  She certainly wasn’t upset that Shelby was dead.  As for any complacency on her part, I’d say she knows you have no proof of her directly killing Shelby.  As for Ryan, that’s a whole different matter.  She likes to feel in charge and when a situation presents itself when she is not, her confidence goes out the window,” Sweets said.  Booth nodded and said,

          “But that doesn’t help us find her uncle,”

          “No but my guess is that he’ll try to contact her in some way.  She’s already helped him commit murder and then she was able to remove any witnesses to said murder.  Without Nancy this whole event would have fallen apart,” Sweets pointed out.

          “True.  Well I think it’s time to ask Charlie if Miami has anything for us,” Booth headed out of the room followed by his two companions.

**Miami-Dade Police Crime Lab, Thursday at 6:00 pm**

          “Another scorcher out there today Horatio,” Detective Frank Tripp wiped the sweat from his brow as he entered the building, thankful for the air conditioning.  They had only walked from their respective cars to the Lab and the humidity had them drenched.

          “Yes it is Frank,” Lieutenant Horatio Crane nodded and removed his sunglasses.

          “Any word from the stakeout of Jonathan Kawlicki place?”  He asked as he plopped himself into his office chair inside his cubicle.

          “Nothing yet but I have a feeling he won’t want to leave all of his expensive possessions behind, including this letter from his company, Friends of Pets,” CSI Calleigh Duquesne interrupts them.  She handed the letter to Horatio.

          “Where did you find that?”  Frank raised an eyebrow.

          “It came in today’s mail,” Calleigh smiled.  Frank gave a slight chuckle before accepting the note from Horatio.

          “So they were going to fire him even if the merger didn’t go through,” the detective said after silently reading the words on the official letterhead.

          “So it seems Frank.  You know what they say about cornered animals,” Horatio paused.  Frank nodded.

          “They attack,”


	10. Chapter 10

**Booth’s Office, Friday at 9:00 am**  

          “Booth!”  Charlie hobbled into the Senior Field Agent’s office as fast as he could. 

          “What is it Charlie?”  Booth stood up from behind his desk and looked at the younger agent.

          “I just received word from Lieutenant Caine.  The CEO of Friends of Pets, Robert Penfold, has disappeared,” Charlie explained.

          “So that means Jonathan Kawlicki has returned to Florida.  How’d he get through the airport?”  Booth wasn’t happy.

          “I don’t know but you can bet after that letter the Lieutenant told us about the CEO doesn’t have much time,” the younger agent said.

          “No, I imagine he doesn’t.  What are they doing down there to recover him?”  The G-man wanted to know.

          “They have bolos out on everything that has wheels that Robert Penfold owns.  They also have released his picture and Jonathan Kawlicki’s picture to the press,” Charlie told him.  Booth nodded, if Kawlicki intended to kill the CEO, he had probably already done it.  The worst part was that there were plenty of places to dispose of the body and plenty of large reptiles to eat it.

          “Has Steve come up with anything on Kawlicki’s financials?”  Booth asked.

          “No.  He had fallen off the grid up until a few minutes ago,” Charlie said.

          “So if he rented a car or took the bus there is no trail left behind.  Get Nancy Crane into Interrogation One.  We need to talk,” with that the younger agent was off getting what Booth had requested.  The Senior Field Agent picked up his cell phone and dialed his partner.

          A short time later, they both sat across from Nancy Crane and her attorney.  The lawyer, Wayne Rudd, was the first to speak up,

          “So why have you brought us here again?”

          “Robert Penfold has gone missing and the only person who would want to see him gone is Jonathan Kawlicki.  We want Nancy to tell us what his plans were,” Booth told them.

          “What makes you think my client knows where he is?”  Rudd asked.

          “She helped him kill Ryan Schamberger and then made sure that Shelby Zang was out of the way.  Somehow I think she knows,” Booth’s sarcastic tone added to the tension in the room.  Rudd leaned over and whispered something to his client.  She shook her head “no” and he continued to try to explain things to her.  After a minute or so, the conversation continued.

          “My client would be more inclined to help if you offered her a deal,” the lawyer explained.

          “What kind of deal?”  Brennan looked at the two of them.

          “One that involves the least possible jail time,” they were playing hard to get and Booth knew they were running out of time.  The sooner they retrieved the information the sooner the Florida team could find Robert Penfold, hopefully alive.

          “Don’t make any deals Cherie until I hear what she has to say,” Caroline Julian entered the interrogation room.

          “Good to see you Caroline,” the classic Booth smile made an appearance and Wayne Rudd looked at the two of them.

          “So now that we’re all here, perhaps we can play ball,” he said.

          “Indeed Mr. Rudd.  Your client is an accomplice to a murder that happened in US air space and as such I intend to prosecute her to the full extent of the law, murder two,” Caroline told him.

          “That isn’t a deal,” Wayne argued.

          “Fine, I’ll make sure she’s eligible for parole in twenty-five years.  Otherwise we can take this to a jury and have them give her life without the possibility of parole.  Which would you prefer?”  The US Attorney was playing her usual hard ball.

          “See I find it very difficult to believe that you can convict her uncle of murder when the best evidence you have is covered in sanitizing fluid.  It sounds like you need her help,” Wayne told her.

          “We have motive and opportunity.  What else do I need?”  Caroline raised an eyebrow.

          “My client can tell you all about her uncle’s plan and Robert Penfold but we need to hear a better offer than twenty-five to life,” the attorney had them in a rock and a hard place.  Nancy’s testimony and the motive and opportunity Caroline had mentioned would put Kawlicki away for good.

          “All right fifteen to life,” Miss Julian said.

          “Deal,” Rudd nodded.

          “Ok now here comes the part where you spill the beans,” Caroline looked at Nancy.

**Miami, Florida, Friday at 11:00 am**  

          “According to Agent Booth, Kawlicki is holed up inside that abandoned warehouse owned by his company Friends of Pets,” FBI Agent Sally Rich explained.

          “I have patrolmen sealing off every exit.  He won’t get away,” Lieutenant Caine said.

          “Good.  Now its time we woke him up,” Sally grabbed a megaphone she’d borrowed from the FBI’s vehicle and spoke into it.

          “Jonathan Kawlicki come out with your hands up!  We have the building surrounded!”  The response they received was gunfire.

          “Move in!”  Sally ordered.


	11. Chapter 11

**Miami, Florida, Friday at 11:15 am**

          Within moments police officers and FBI agents had infiltrated the building.  That’s when someone shouted over the radio,

          “We need an ambulance!”

          “I’m going in,” Sally told the Lieutenant after hearing the statement over the radio.

          “Right behind you,” he replied.  They both drew their weapons and entered the building.  The warehouse was full of empty pallets and storage containers stacked very high.  Working their way through the maze, the FBI agent and Lieutenant Caine were able to find what they were looking for.  Jonathan Kawlicki lay on the ground; a gunshot wound to his stomach and one of the police officers was trying to keep him alive while another officer had Robert Penfold sitting on the floor in handcuffs.

          “What happened here?”  Sally wanted to know.

          “I want my lawyer!”  Penfold shouted.

          “Ok then,” Sally gave him a look before turning to see the EMTs arriving at the scene.  They quickly took charge of the wounded man and Horatio turned to them.

          “Officer McDaniel will be joining him in the ambulance,” he then turned to another officer and said,

          “Officer Porterfield follow in your cruiser.”  Porterfield nodded and followed the medical team out of the building.

          “Frank would you do the honor of escorting Mr. Penfold to the station?”  The Lieutenant asked.

          “I’d love to,” Detective Tripp grabbed the man off the floor and headed to the exit with him.  Everyone else followed them out of the building.

          “I’m calling Agent Booth,” Sally said as they reached her car.

          “You do that.  We’ll meet up with them later at the station,” Horatio nodded and put on his sunglasses.

**Miami-Dade Police Crime Lab, Friday at 4:00 pm**  

          “Sorry it took us so long to get here,” Booth shook hands with Lieutenant Caine and Sally Rich.

          “No problem Agent Booth.  We kept him in interrogation with his lawyer,” Sally smiled.

          “May I see the weapon and the bullet?”  Brennan wondered.

          “Yes of course, I’ll get Calleigh to bring them up,” Horatio gave a slight smile and then left to find the CSI.

          “So Jonathan Kawlicki’s niece told you everything and somehow he’s the one that gets shot?”  Sally looked to Booth for an answer.

          “I have to say something is definitely hinky here.   Wasn’t Penfold the one who was kidnapped?”  The FBI agent asked.

          “We assumed so when his wife claimed he never came home last night.  It was odd for him to be out all night when he had work this morning,” Agent Rich explained.

          “And the first thing Penfold wanted was a lawyer?  If he was the victim, he certainly wasn’t behaving as such,” Brennan said.

          “No, he wasn’t.  Care to question him?”  Sally wondered.  Booth nodded and the two went off to see if they could get anything out of the Friends of Pets’ CEO.  Brennan hung back eager to see what gun had been used and what the bullet looked like after being retrieved from Jonathan Kawlicki.  At last update, the murderer had been listed in critical condition after the massive loss of blood and damage from the bullet.

          “Dr. Brennan?”  A smiling blonde walked up holding a nine-millimeter handgun in an evidence bag.

          “Yes, you must be Calleigh,” Brennan gave a slight smile and shook her hand.

          “Here is the weapon used to shoot Jonathan Kawlicki.  The bullet was damaged but I was able to confirm that it was in fact fired from that nine millimeter,” Calleigh nodded.  The forensic anthropologist didn’t respond as she continued to hold the gun.  There was some silence between them for a few minutes before Brennan asked,

          “Whose fingerprints were on the weapon?” 

          “I was able to match both Kawlicki’s and Penfold’s on the gun.  It seems they fought over it before Penfold gained control and fired,” CSI Duquesne explained.

          “Very odd,” Brennan commented.

          “How so?”  The blonde wondered.

          “Well Kawlicki used his bare hands and the overhead compartment to kill Ryan Schamberger.  Why use a gun now?”  Brennan posed the question and Calleigh saw where she was going with this.

          “I’m running the serial number I found to see who owned the weapon.  Perhaps that will help answer your question,” she said.

          “Possibly.  Please send all the evidence to the Jeffersonian.  My team will need to match any possible DNA samples from the gun to confirm the presence of Mr. Kawlicki on the plane,” the forensic anthropologist instructed.

          “No problem,” with that Calleigh took the gun and bullet back before heading back to her office to check for results.  Brennan then turned her focus to the interrogation Booth was leading in the glass-walled room not far from where she stood.  Their next stop would be the hospital.  Hopefully they would be able to get some information from Jonathan.

          “What did you learn?”  Brennan asked after waiting half an hour for the interrogation to end.

          “All we can confirm is that the two struggled for the gun and Penfold ended up shooting Kawlicki.  He won’t give us anything more than that.  To make matters worse, we can’t hold him because he’s sticking with the kidnapping story,” her partner explained.

          “So he doesn’t know who the gun belongs to or why Kawlicki took him to the warehouse?”  Brennan raised an eyebrow.

          “If he does, he isn’t talking,” Sally shook her head.

          “Then I guess we have to hope we can get an answer from Kawlicki,” the forensic anthropologist sighed.

          “Which will be quite hard to do, I’m afraid Dr. Brennan.  I just received word that the doctors have pulled Mr. Kawlicki back into surgery.  Apparently, there was some internal bleeding they missed.  The doctors don’t think he’ll pull through the weekend,” Lieutenant Caine arrived at the group after receiving the devastating phone call.

          “He dies and the truth goes with him.  Perhaps we’d better sit at the hospital so we can talk to him as soon as possible,” Booth sighed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Jackson Memorial Hospital, Saturday at 9:00 am**  

          Kawlicki hadn’t woken up yet and Booth and Brennan were looking forward to getting some sleep.  They had spent the night in the hospital waiting for their murderer to wake up and had only caught a few hours of sleep in the hospital chairs. 

          “Coffee?”  Calleigh asked as she arrived at the spot the partners sat with a travel carrier containing two cups of the hot liquid along with sugar packets.  She had obviously had a good night’s sleep, as the smile on her face hadn’t faded from yesterday.

          “Please,” Booth managed a smile of his own.  Brennan smiled and accepted one as well.

          “I wasn’t sure how you take it so I brought sugar.  They apparently didn’t have travel creams when I went through the drive-thru,” the CSI explained.

          “Black is great,” the FBI agent replied.  The stuff was strong and he needed a pick me up.

          “So nothing from Kawlicki yet?”  She wondered.

          “He still hasn’t woken up from surgery.  The doctor isn’t holding his breath either,” Brennan told her.  The coffee was already perking her up.

          “Well I spoke to Horatio and he feels that despite the fact that we know Penfold shot Kawlicki we won’t have much of an attempted murder case against him.  The kidnapping makes Penfold a victim and since he’s sticking with the story he gave us we have no evidence to the contrary,” Calleigh said as she took a seat next to Brennan.

          “Where there any security cameras at the warehouse?”  Booth asked.

          “No suck luck, I’m afraid.  Seems the company dismantled them when they stopped using the warehouse.  The piece of property was due to go up for sale when the merger occurred and Pets ‘R’ Us had plans for those cameras in a new warehouse they were building overseas,” the blonde replied.

          “So all we have is a kidnapping victim who shoots his captor and then cries out for a lawyer as soon as the proper authorities get there,” the ex-Ranger shook his head.  Should Kawlicki die before waking up the case would end here.  Technically the murderer he and Bones sought was in their custody but another case hung in the balance.  While he mused about where to go from there, Calleigh’s phone rang. 

          “Duquesne,” she answered.  There was a short amount of talking on the other end before she said,

          “Thanks Eric.  We’ll talk later,”

          “Who was that?”  Brennan asked.

          “Eric Delko, I work with him.  He says the gun came back registered to Mrs. Penfold,” she said.

          “Wait a minute.  According to Nancy Crane, her uncle owned a nine mil.  Why would he need to borrow Mrs. Penfold’s?”  Booth looked at her in disbelief.

          “Eric ran Kawlicki and saw he had no license for a weapon or that he owned one.  Perhaps he borrowed from Mrs. Penfold?”  The blonde was onto something.

          “The only reason you give someone your husband works with your gun is if…” Booth had it now.

          “Is if you want your husband dead,” Horatio had arrived at the spot the three sat.

          “Ah, so Mrs. Penfold wants Kawlicki to kill her husband.  Then he gets promoted instead of fired.  But…” Brennan paused.

          “The two of them were having an affair.  First, Kawlicki kills the guy taking his job.  Then he is supposed to kill Robert Penfold.  Now that anyone who could be a threat to him is dead, the two of them could continue the affair and use the money from the merger to go to some Caribbean island with no extradition treaty,” her partner finished.

          “Sounds plausible to me.  Why don’t I get Frank and we pay a little visit to Mrs. Penfold?”  Horatio cocked his head to the side and smiled. 

**The Penfold’s Home, Saturday at 11:00 am**

          “May I help you?”  A maid answered the door but didn’t let them in.  Apparently the pet business paid very well as the house had to be at least four thousand square feet with a Spanish motif.

          “Is Mrs. Penfold home?”  Frank Tripp asked.

          “Senora Penfold is out at her tennis match.  She plays every Saturday morning at the country club,” the maid explained.

          “Perhaps you can help us.  When was the last time you saw Mrs. Penfold’s gun?”  Horatio wondered.

          “Why don’t you come back when Senora Penfold is home?  She could tell you,” the maid was obviously nervous.

          “We promise we won’t send you back to your home country.  All we want to know about is the gun,” Lieutenant Caine tried to coax her.  Both he and Frank had seen that look in her eyes and heard the fear in her voice, she was an illegal. 

          “I don’t want to go back to Cuba.  Please,” she pleaded with them.

          “Senora, we promise.  Now about Mrs. Penfold’s gun?”  Horatio smiled.

          “Senora Penfold went out a week ago to Senor Kawlicki’s house.  They had been seeing each other behind Senor Penfold’s back.  I caught them once and she made me swear not to say anything or she’d send me home.  Anyway, the other day when I was doing the laundry, I was putting away some of the Senora’s clothes in her closet when I realized that there was a shoebox missing from her normally organized stack.  It had her gun in it,” the housekeeper explained.

          “Thank you ma’am.  We’ll go pay a visit to Mrs. Penfold at the country club,” Frank nodded and the two turned to leave. 

          “Seems Agent Booth hit the nail on the head huh Horatio,” Detective Tripp said as they entered the Hummer.

          “Yes he did,” the Lieutenant nodded.


	13. Chapter 13

**Miami-Dade Crime Lab, Saturday at 12:30 pm**

          “Mrs. Penfold, we found your gun.  Your husband used it to shoot Jonathan Kawlicki,” Frank couldn’t help the smirk on his face.

          “That’s why you interrupted my tennis match?”  Mrs. Michelle Penfold asked.  She didn’t seem surprised.

          “Funny we thought you’d be surprised to learn that Kawlicki tried to kill your husband with your weapon,” Frank looked to Horatio.

          “Yes well I called in to tell you my husband was missing.  It only stood to reason that my gun would disappear with him.  I gave it to him after all,” Michelle claimed.

          “You gave your husband your gun?”  Horatio asked.

          “Yes.  After we heard that Ryan Schamberger was murdered, I let him take it to protect himself,” she explained.

          “Then how did Robert get kidnapped by an unarmed man?”  Lieutenant Caine wondered.

          “Jonathan must have stolen the gun from him.  He’s very strong you know,” the woman remained calm.

          “See we got a different story from Kawlicki’s niece.  The plan was to kill Ryan Schamberger and then your husband.  If Jonathan were as strong as you say, why wouldn’t he just kill your husband and not bother to drag him to the empty warehouse?”  Frank chimed in.

          “I don’t know,” Michelle replied.  Detective Tripp was about to ask another question when Horatio’s cell went off and the Lieutenant excused himself.

          About five minutes later, the red haired man reentered the glass interrogation room with a look on his face.

          “Jonathan Kawlicki is awake.  He says it was your idea to kill your husband in the warehouse.  He was supposed to ditch the gun into the Everglades after it was over,” he said.  Frank looked at him wondering if that were actually true or he was trying to get the woman to confess to something.

          “I want a lawyer,” Mrs. Penfold clammed up.

          “You’d better hope it’s a good one,” Frank said as the two men left the room.  An officer escorted Michelle to the holding cell.

          “So Kawlicki woke up?”  Tripp raised an eyebrow.

          “I’m afraid not Frank.  That call was to inform me that he died ten minutes ago.  However with the arrest of Mrs. Penfold we can search the house for the evidence we need.  I’ve already sent Eric and Mr. Wolfe to search the warehouse.  Calleigh and I will swing by the Penfold home,” Horatio told him.

          “What are you arresting her on?”  The detective was a little confused.

          “Murder.  Her weapon was used in the perpetration of a felony,” a smile spread across the red haired man’s face.  This made Frank laugh as they separated both knowing that charge wouldn’t hold up but that didn’t mean they couldn’t work their case around it.

**Booth’s Hotel Room, Saturday at 1:30 pm**

          “This is weird,” Brennan said to her partner who lay on the queen-sized bed.

          “What Bones?”  He looked at her as she kicked off her high heels.

          “Well our case is essentially over.  We arrested Nancy Crane and Omar Lake and our third suspect is dead.  Although there is no way to conclusively tie him to the murder of Ryan Schamberger other than what his niece says.  I guess its just weird,” she sighed as she plopped down on the bed next to him.

          “We got Shelby’s and Ryan’s murderers.  It may be different than we normally handle things but we can officially write in our files who killed whom,” he pointed out.

          “I suppose you’re right.  Still some things bother me.  Why did Kawlicki take the time to make sure that he ruined every piece of evidence in Ryan’s murder and then get sloppy when he tried to kill Robert Penfold?  Why not kill Penfold first?  What was in that warehouse?”  Brennan wanted to know.  Booth rolled over onto his side and pulled her close with his right arm.

          “Don’t forget why did Kawlicki kill Schamberger with his hands and then try to kill Penfold with Michelle Penfold’s weapon?”  He chuckled.

          “I think I have an answer for that one.  Using a gun on the plane would have been almost impossible.  He would have had to use what he had around him including his hands.  The gun could have been used to scare Penfold into doing whatever Kawlicki wanted and then kill him.  No one would have heard a gun go off at the warehouse.  Besides since Michelle Penfold’s weapon wasn’t in the criminal database, they wouldn’t have necessarily matched it with anything.  Plus if what Lieutenant Caine said were true, if the plan included throwing the weapon into the Everglades, then no one would have found it right away.  Sometime after her husband disappeared then she could have claimed that it had been stolen,” the forensic anthropologist told him.

          “See now I know you’ve been hanging around me too long,” he leaned in and kissed her lips.

          “That’s because you’re hard to resist,” she laughed as she pulled him in for another kiss.

          “Oh really?  I thought it was because I was symmetrical and an alpha male,” Booth teased.  She pushed him over and then climbed on top of him, her thighs straddling his hips.

          “Shut up,” she told him as her hands roamed over his shirt and began to unbutton the buttons that held the front of the shirt together.  He grabbed her arms and rolled them onto her back.  Brennan just gave him a look before continuing what she’d started.  His hands moved to her blouse and he began undoing the buttons.  Within a short time, he’d already moved to her skirt while she moved to his pants.  That’s when his cell phone rang.

          “Ignore it,” she told him as she’d already managed to get his pants down past his boxers.  He did as he was told especially since his reaction to her touch had begun its magic.  Taking a moment from undressing her, Booth threw his suit coat off along with the phone that was in its inside breast pocket.  This had given her the opportunity to remove her skirt.  The ringing had stopped and the phone signaled it was going to voicemail but neither one of them cared until Brennan’s phone began to ring.

          “No…” Booth complained as she stopped her hands from pulling off his wife beater and grabbed her purse.  Pulling out her phone, she noticed the number belonged to Lieutenant Caine.

          “Brennan,” she answered effectively ending what they had started.  Booth rolled his eyes and found his phone.  He had a voicemail from the Lieutenant as well.

          “Thanks we’ll be there as soon as we can,” she replied.  After hanging up she gathered up her clothes.  They were wrinkled but they had already been that way after spending the night in the hospital.  She slipped the clothes back on and headed for the door and her hotel room to freshen up when Booth caught her arm.

          “Bones,” it was obvious what the problem but she just smirked.  It wasn’t as if this hadn’t happened before and he knew what she was going to say.

          “Save that for later.”  He shook his head and went into the bathroom.  Later he’d make sure she’d find walking a bit difficult.


	14. Chapter 14

**Abandoned Warehouse Owned By Friends of Pets, Saturday at 3:00 pm**  

          “So what did you find?”  Booth asked the CSI’s who greeted them at the door to the warehouse where the shooting had occurred.

          “The reason Kawlicki dragged Penfold out here.  Come on,” Ryan Wolfe jerked his head toward the building and the partners followed.  They walked through the maze of the stacked wooden pallets until they reached a doorway, which had two dead bolts on it.

          “Whatever they had in here they certainly didn’t want anyone to see,” Booth commented as they entered the back room.

          “You brought us down here for dog toys?”  Brennan raised an eyebrow after seeing the shipping labels on the large cardboard boxes.

          “Yes and no,” Ryan smirked as he pointed to the open box in front of him.  Both partners walked over to take a look.  Booth grabbed his pen from his coat pocket and lifted one of the toys.  It was a KONG © type toy that the pet owner stuffed treats inside and let the dog fight to get it out.

          “A surprise inside huh?”  The FBI agent smirked when he recognized the white powder that spilled out.

          “I’ve seen people hide their drugs in a lot of places but dog toys?  That’s a new one,” Eric Delko shook his head.

          “So this is why Kawlicki wanted to come here.  He knew about the drug operation which would officially be shut down now that the warehouse wasn’t going to be used anymore,” Brennan said.

          “There’s enough cocaine in those dog toys for someone to retire,” Ryan told them.

          “Well Bones I believe this falls under my jurisdiction.  This box was headed to Mexico.  No doubt Kawlicki wanted to be sure the package was going to be delivered,” Booth smiled.

          “That’s why Horatio thought you should know.  We can’t get him for murder but you can get him for drug trafficking.  We’ve got our forensic accountant checking their banking for the money transfer,” Eric couldn’t help but smile.

          “I’ll call up the Jeffersonian and have them ship your evidence back to you so you can prosecute Mrs. Penfold,” Brennan said as she pulled out her cell phone and punched in Cam’s number.

          “You really think you guys can nail Mrs. Penfold with murder?”  Booth wondered.  The two CSI’s shrugged.

          “I’m sure we can think of something.  Besides we don’t know what H and Calleigh found at the Penfold home,” Wolfe told them.

          “All right well if you don’t mind, I’ll have the local field office bag and tag all of the evidence and be sure that Agent Sally Rich nails Penfold to the wall,” the G-man said.

          “Sure, less work for us,” Delko smiled and pulled out his cell phone to call Lieutenant Caine.

          “Well if that’s all settled then I guess Bones and I can catch a flight out tomorrow,” Booth was happy with the conclusion of this messy investigation.

          “I think so.  Horatio has your number should we need anything,” Ryan nodded and watched as the former Army Ranger pulled out his cell to call Agent Rich.

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Sunday at 1:00 pm**

          “What are you guys doing here?”  Cam asked as she saw the partners enter the lab.  She was on the platform looking at partially decomposed body.

          “I guess the question is, what are _you_ doing here?”  Booth raised an eyebrow to the corpse that lay on the slab as Brennan scanned them into the platform.

          “Local cops found a floater in the Chesapeake.  I’m just lending a hand for identification,” the former police coroner told them.

          “Are they short handed down at Metro PD?”  Brennan wondered.

          “No, they’re afraid the coroner would be emotionally entangled since they think this was his nephew.  The kid disappeared about a week ago and it looks like he’s been in the water at least that long,” Cam explained.  Brennan nodded.  The victim didn’t look that old but the bloating could be playing tricks on them.

          “So back to my question.  Why are you here?  Shouldn’t you be trying to catch up on some sleep?”  Dr. Saroyan asked.

          “Paperwork.  Booth needs all the findings on Kawlicki so that he can give a copy to the Miami-Dade police for their case against Michelle Penfold,” the forensic anthropologist told her.

          “Oh, well helpee selfee.  I shouldn’t be too much longer and then I’m heading home myself,” Cam smiled and the partners left the platform and headed for Brennan’s office.  They found what they were looking for and headed back to the Hoover building after saying goodbye to Cam.

          Copies made, Booth faxed them to Horatio and then called up Agent Rich to see how things were proceeding.  She promised to keep him in the loop and he told her he appreciated it.  Once he was off the phone, Brennan said,

          “It’s already quarter to three.”

          “Come on Bones.  I’ll take you to your apartment.  We’re done here anyway,” he smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they headed for the elevator.

          “Bed sounds great right now,” she admitted as she tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

          “You think you’re tired now, wait until I get through with you,” he smirked.  They had gone back to their hotel Saturday night and had promised to start where they had left off but both of them had collapsed on the bed completely exhausted.  Their flight left at eleven thirty and they had scrambled to the airport around eleven because neither one had set an alarm.  After waking up at ten, rushing to empty all their personal belongings out of the hotel rooms, checking out and rushing to the airport, they were exhausted again.  They didn’t sleep on the flight as the plane hit turbulence and they were jostled about in the cabin.

          “Oh and you think that I’m up for that?”  She gave him a look as they boarded the SUV and he revved the engine.

          “Oh I think so,” Booth smirked and leaned over to whisper something dirty in her ear.

          “Well what are you waiting for?”  She asked as he leaned back into his seat and punched the Sequoia into drive.

**The End**


End file.
